


Sight Seen (the OAC2 remix)

by Cesare



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Blind Date, M/M, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 02:15:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare





	Sight Seen (the OAC2 remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aesc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesc/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Studies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/674013) by [aesc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aesc/pseuds/aesc). 



"He's adorable," Emma said. "You'll love him."

"I hate adorable," Erik pointed out. It was true. He refused to pretend people's babies were cute, though having received a few verbal bludgeonings on the subject, he now refrained from overtly pointing out when they were ugly. He crossed the street to avoid the Sanrio store. He voted down YouTube videos of puppies and kittens. Someone had to keep those people in check.

"Well, Charles only looks adorable," Emma modified. "In fact he's ferociously intelligent and more than a little strange. He studies genetics. He'll probably make jokes about unzipping your genes."

"So far you're batting a thousand," Erik said, "--strikes."

"There, you see? Charles doesn't know anything about sports either! You'd be perfect for each other!"

"Absolutely not."

"Oh, fine," she began tapping at her iPhone. "This is contrary to the spirit of a blind date, you know," and she showed him the photo on the screen.

#

Erik arrived at Frazetta's promptly at seven pm, sweeping his gaze over the patrons. The place was lousy with humans, but at least it was quiet.

He recognized Charles and carefully didn't stare, turning his attention back to the hostess. The photo Emma showed him was of a gorgeous young man at his ease, with the most appealing smile Erik had ever seen on any living creature and possibly the bluest eyes as well, his complexion fair and freckled, his hair a wavy brown tumble. There were probably clothes in the picture too, but Erik couldn't remember anything but that beautiful face and the strength of the exposed neck and collarbone.

The young man at the table wore a stiff grey suit jacket over a white shirt with a straight button-down collar so pointy and severe it looked like it ought to have gables and shelter nuns. His hair was brushed up as if someone started to style it into a wave and gave up before the wave had a chance to crest, leaving the gelled strands straining skyward and listing to one side.

The expression on his face was pinched and apprehensive, but his eyes really were _that_ blue, even in the dim greenish light shed by the overhead lamp, and the odd-- costume, or whatever it was-- couldn't hide his relatively wide shoulders and trim frame.

Though it did a good job trying. And Charles looked wan, his back slightly hunched, if that wasn't just the ill fit of the suit jacket. Emma said he was a telepath; he might have picked up Erik's exacting assessment.

It wasn't that Erik was let down or anything, really. He could see this was the same person. Everything he'd found attractive in the photo was there, it was only... he hated to admit it, even to himself, but it was the smile that really got him to agree to this madness, and there was no trace of that expression on Charles's face now, no hint that he was the least bit likely to be that happy tonight. And Erik had plenty of talents, but he didn't traditionally have much of an ability to bring a smile to anyone's face.

Those blue eyes latched onto Erik and lost focus slightly. Erik hoped that wasn't a look of disappointment. All Emma would tell him about Charles's side of this was that Charles hadn't given her nearly as much trouble about the blind date as Erik had.

The hostess led Erik to Charles's table. "Here you are!" she announced redundantly, and winked at Charles. Mysterious. Erik wondered if there were some universal signal for 'Please help me get out of this horrible date' between daters and servers that the hostess was arranging, throwing Charles a lifeline via that wink.

"You must be Charles," Erik said, by way of introduction.

Charles looked up at him saucer-eyed. "You have an absolutely _fascinating_ mutation," he said out of nowhere, and licked his lips. "Several, actually. Did you know that blue eyes likely first arose from a mutation in the 86th intron of the HERC2 gene?" He was a little smaller than Erik had expected, and had a slightly deeper voice than Erik would've imagined, too, with an English accent so proper Erik could almost taste the toffee and Earl Grey.

Charles nattered on, "HERC2 is adjacent to OCA2, and that mutation affected the expression of OCA2 in the human iris. Now, what does this have to do with your lovely grey eyes, you ask? Well, OCA2 encodes—"

"Yes," Erik interrupted him when it became evident Charles wouldn't wind down on his own anytime soon, or possibly even pause for breath. "Do you mind if I sit down first?"

"--No," Charles said, abruptly sitting back. "I mean, yes, sorry, please. Please sit down."

"If you insist." Erik took a seat across from Charles. bemused despite himself.

So apparently 'adorable' was Emma-speak for 'deeply, unbelievably awkward'. Charles dropped his gaze, his face flushed pink, and reached for the menu as if it were the last seat-cushion-slash-floatation-device on a plummeting airplane.

He was worth watching, even with the unflattering outfit and hairstyle. Erik had never found freckles attractive before, but they looked good on Charles, especially the two on the bridge of his nose. It was no wonder he looked so good in a photograph; he had strong features, a broad brow, high cheekbones, a pointed chin and a bold nose, balanced by his arched brows and those blue blue eyes and red red lips.

"So," Charles said, “what brings--" He shook his head and leaned in confidentially. "Did Emma threaten you with blackmail, too?"

Oh, for God's sake. And people wondered why Erik hated everything. "No."

"That’s nice," Charles muttered. He studied Erik again, and this time his expression was much easier to read: his eyes were dark, the line of his mouth relaxing, his shoulders easing down, posture opening up. "Uh, what do you study?"

"At the moment, genetics, apparently," said Erik. He meant it nicely enough, mostly, but Charles colored again. Damn. "But, when not learning about OAC2, I’m in physics."

"OCA2,” Charles corrected. “And what kind?”

“Why?” Erik asked.

“Um, because it’s the kind of question that gets asked on dates?” Charles blinked, utterly guileless.

"Quantum."

"Lovely," Charles said, appearing to sincerely mean it.

The server showed up and asked after their drink orders; Charles licked his lips again before he answered, and glanced over at Erik; something made his eyes widen, and his mouth curved in the slightest suggestion of a smile.

"What's lovely about it?" Erik asked when the server left, before Charles could hide behind the menu again.

"Sorry?"

"You said quantum physics is 'lovely,'" Erik said. "What's lovely about it?"

"Well-- the fundamental forces of the universe," said Charles. "Are lovely. I suppose. I guess I was really thinking that, you know, I study the structure and function of the genes that make us who we are, you study the particles that make everything what it is, so maybe there's common ground to be had there."

"Maybe," Erik allowed.

Dinner lasted well over an hour, as they took turns educating each other in enough of the background of their respective fields to be able to talk in a meaningful way about their specific areas of interest. Obviously in Erik's case that was quantum electrodynamics, and equally obviously, in Charles's case, it was X-gene mutation, though he took a lengthy detour to finish his explanation about the interaction between mutation in HERC2 and OCA2 that inhibited melanin production and so created the illusion of blue eyes. 

"No actual blue pigment in the iris, you see," he said, "it's essentially a trick of the light, the same thing that makes the sky look blue."

"Rayleigh scattering," Erik nodded.

Charles smiled, head bobbing enthusiastically. It wasn't quite the relaxed, spectacular smile of the photo, but it was a smile, ripe with possibility, and Erik found himself almost, very nearly, smiling back.


End file.
